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Philosophy & Mission
Let's unravel & define bitchcraft
Bitchcraft, a disarming play off of witchcraft, is a celebration of radical womanhood, and an observation of magick in the form of handmade crafts and/or mystic arts. Witches have traditionally threatened strict religious doctrines, challenged the status quo, and evoked fear. The word 'bitch' is used to verbally persecute women, not unlike the executions performed on alleged female magick users throughout history. To be called a bitch, one must have challenged the status quo. And to be an artist or mystic staunchly opposes how we're expected to earn in our capitalistic economy.
These combined concepts paint a vivid portrait of a woman who is full of rage and courage. She will no longer be discouraged from actualizing her dreams. She sharpens her pencil like a blade, or lights a balmy candle and slips into a lucid trance. She wets her hands and shapes visions out of clay, or intuitively interprets the serendipitous arrangement of colorful cards. Whatever her art, it takes her to another world. She will not be discouraged by criticism, she will risk conformity for this feeling, this spell cast by her own two masterful hands.
When you're drawn to take part in Bitchcraft Fair, whether as a vendor, an attendee, a guest or a volunteer, perhaps you, too, can feel that ancient power stirring in your bones. Be assured that when you join us, that electricity is palpably felt. You are a part of that, a creator in human form, and your energy matters. you belong here.
a place to belong for people who don't
Bitchcraft Fair was never meant for what is delicate, easily broken, or carefully kept.
It was built from a heart split open.
I have endless admiration for those who vend at this fair. I am an artist too, but I have never had the courage to stand where you stand, to place something of yourself before the world and believe it might be wanted. What I do instead is build the space for you. To hold it and to honor it.
Bitchcraft Fair began in 2018 in Columbus, Ohio, during one of the most unstable chapters of my life. Newly separated and unraveling in ways I didn’t yet understand, I created something that, against all odds, worked. Not just logistically, but spiritually. The room pulsed with something I had never felt before, a collective energy that changed me.
Then came 2020. By January, we were sold out. By March, the world shut down. I refunded vendors with my first relief check while facing eviction myself. There wasn’t another option. It mattered too much to do it any other way. In 2021, Pittsburgh reminded me why this existed at all. It was magick in its purest form. But the world had changed. And so had I. What followed was disorientation, grief, and a quiet loss of identity. I questioned everything, including whether I still belonged in the world we had built.
Bitchcraft Fair has never been about perfection. It has always been about resilience, about creating something sacred in spite of everything that tries to tear it down. This is not just an event. It is a space for those who create anyway. We are back, taking up space because we belong here. You belong here. It's taken me this long to learn that I do, too. So, for those who have been here since the beginning, how did it go? Say it with me once more: They could not burn us. So join us.
Bitchcraft Fair began in 2018 in Columbus, Ohio, during one of the most unstable chapters of my life. Newly separated and unraveling in ways I didn’t yet understand, I created something that, against all odds, worked. Not just logistically, but spiritually. The room pulsed with something I had never felt before, a collective energy that changed me.
Then came 2020. By January, we were sold out. By March, the world shut down. I refunded vendors with my first relief check while facing eviction myself. There wasn’t another option. It mattered too much to do it any other way. In 2021, Pittsburgh reminded me why this existed at all. It was magick in its purest form. But the world had changed. And so had I. What followed was disorientation, grief, and a quiet loss of identity. I questioned everything, including whether I still belonged in the world we had built.
Bitchcraft Fair has never been about perfection. It has always been about resilience, about creating something sacred in spite of everything that tries to tear it down. This is not just an event. It is a space for those who create anyway. We are back, taking up space because we belong here. You belong here. It's taken me this long to learn that I do, too. So, for those who have been here since the beginning, how did it go? Say it with me once more: They could not burn us. So join us.
